


Blood will tell

by myrish_lace



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Love Confessions, One Shot, Post Season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 05:18:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12763980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrish_lace/pseuds/myrish_lace
Summary: Jon Snow learns the truth about his heritage, and locks himself in his room, furious and ashamed. Jaime Lannister, Sansa's sworn shield, arrives with food and a harsh message. Sansa herself follows shortly after, and Jon and Sansa get into an argument. In the heat of the moment Sansa confesses she's glad he's part Targaryen, and Jon reveals his true feelings for Sansa.





	Blood will tell

**Author's Note:**

> From a tumblr prompt, about Jon's Targaryen blood leading to Jon and Sansa's first kiss :)

Jon wished Jaime Lannister had been anywhere else, when Sam stammered out the truth of Jon’s heritage.

But Jaime was Sansa’s sworn shield, much as Jon despised the notion, and she’d ordered Jaime to stay as Sam talked them through the annulment of Rhaegar Targaryen’s marriage.

Jon had listened with growing horror as Bran narrated the scene of his birth. Not a Stark. Never a Stark. His name and his family, ripped out from under him. He’d hurled Sam’s book across the room and hadn’t stopped running until he bolted himself in his chambers.

Now Jaime pounded on Jon’s door. No mistaking the sound of his golden fist. Jon recoiled from the noise, and huddled closer to the fire.

“Targaryens do still need to eat, you realize that don’t you? Your newfound dragon blood won’t keep you from starving.”

“Leave,” Jon growled.

“No, you see, I take orders from Lady Stark, not from you, and my orders are to stand here like a page boy with a tray of food until you eat it.” Jaime sighed. ”Lady Sansa’s worried about you, worried sick. So here I am carrying your stew.”

Jaime would do it, too. Stand guard until Jon yielded. Jon grudgingly opened the door. Jaime gave him a mocking little bow before setting the platter down. Jon stared at him in silence.

Jaime cleared his throat. “At least I understand why you look at Lady Sansa the way you do. Targaryens do have a propensity for–“

Jon snapped, and slammed him into the wall. He drew his dagger and held it to Jaime’s neck. “Finish that sentence, Kingslayer.”

Jaime held his gaze. “For loving their kin,” he murmured. “Go on, go ahead, make it quick. But strike clean, or I’ll hunt you down. I killed your grandfather. I wouldn’t mind continuing the streak.”

He’s mad himself, Jon thought, mad and brave and not afraid to die.

Jon drew back, breathing heavily. “Don’t you dare speak Sansa’s name.”

Jaime raised his hands. “Very well. I’ll see myself out.” He glanced back before he shut the door. “She loves you, you must know that. Everyone can see it.” Jaime smirked. “Everyone but you.”

Jon lunged, but Jaime was already gone.

***

The next knock on his door was light, but Jon knew instantly who it was. His heart sank.

“Jon, please,  _please_ let me come inside.” The simmering, furious, wounded part of him wanted to shut her out forever, shut  _everyone_ out. But he couldn’t do that to her. Not when he could hear the note of fear in her voice. He tamped down his anger and let her in.

Sansa had dark circles under her eyes. She stormed into the room.

“Jon, we’re still your family, we still love you! You can be a Stark and a Targaryen!”

“No I can’t! I can’t, Sansa, I’ve told you and told you I’m not a Stark and I never was.”

“Would Lyanna agree with you? Your mother, who gave her life for you? Who begged father to protect you? Who gave you to the Stark half of her family?” Sansa was flushed and furious.

Guilt twisted in Jon’s chest. All the people who’d died for him. Lied for him.

 _You never asked for it_ , a mutinous voice in his head hissed.  _You never asked for any of this_.

“How can you bear to look at me Sansa? Stand to be around me? My grandfather was the Mad King! My ancestors forced the North to kneel!”

_And I despise myself, for how I feel about you, how I burn with want when you’re close. I have to protect you from the monster inside me._

Sansa took a step towards him. “Well I’m glad you’re both! I’m glad because…because…”

Sansa was looking at his lips and her cheeks were flushed and gods he might be wrong, he might, but he wanted her. A recklessness overtook him, one he’d tried kept locked inside him since he came back from the dead.

_She loves you too. You must know that._

“If I weren’t a Targaryen would I want to do this?”

He took her face in his hands, and leaned in, capturing her mouth. He’d meant to be gentle, but the moment his lips touched hers his body constricted with need and he licked into her mouth. He thanked the gods when she whimpered and pulled him closer, as desperate as he was for the kiss. They were a tangle of tongues and teeth and her skin was as soft and smooth as he’d dreamed, night after guilty night.

She melted into his embrace, throwing her arms around his neck as if she’d never get close enough. The fevered way she gasped his name,  _Jon_ , before opening her mouth to him again drove him wild.

He couldn’t tell where he ended and she began. Their touches were frenzied and hot and heated as she tugged at the rawhide strip in his hair. He yanked it off and cast it away. She sighed when she carded her hands through his curls, tightening her grip, making his scalp tingle. He moaned and pulled her flush to him, pressing open-mouthed kisses down her neck. He needed her more than air, and now that he’d tasted her, held her, felt her shudder when he nipped at the spot just below her ear there was no going back.

She reached for the laces of her dress. Her hair was mussed and her pupils were blown and his blood sang with the knowledge that she ached for him as well. He longed to drag her to the bed and kiss every inch of her skin. But this wasn’t temporary madness, this was forever. He couldn’t let himself get carried away entirely. He had to know if it was forever for her.

He stopped her, and kissed her palm. “Sansa, wait…”

She smiled at him. “Didn’t you just tell me you wanted to see all of me, right now?”

Jon blinked. He had been talking, a stream of pleas and endearments, and he yearned to see her naked and waiting for him. But he summoned up a shred of restraint and caressed her cheek instead.

“I did, sweet girl, I’m sure I did.”

Sansa laughed, a delicate, lovely sound. “You don’t even remember, do you.” She was happy, light and teasing, nuzzling his jaw, warming his heart.

“No,” he admitted, but he was smiling too. “No, I don’t, but I want to remember this.” He took a deep breath. How anxiety and doubt could still thrum through his veins he wasn’t certain, but he knew he wanted more than a passionate kiss. He wanted a life with her.

_So tell her._

“I love you, Sansa–“

“I love you too Jon.”

“I want to marry you under the heart tree, make you my wife, cherish you, care for you.” He kissed her forehead. “I want to fill the castle with children, children with your red hair and your blue eyes–“

She kissed his cheek. “We could have a grey eyed baby too. A boy with dark hair. Or a girl.” She blushed, and Jon laced his fingers with hers and squeezed, gently. Perhaps she was nervous as well. But she had nothing, absolutely nothing to be worried about. He’d do anything she asked.

“That sounds wonderful, love.”

She ducked her head. “I’ve married you half a hundred times under the heart tree in my dreams already. Before…before I knew you were my cousin.”

Jon stifled the laugh that bubbled up inside him. Was that her concern? But he needed to reassure her, and laughing was unlikely to help. He tilted her chin so he could meet her gaze. “So did I Sansa. So did I.”

She smiled, then rested her head on his shoulder. “Then it’s lucky for us you’re a Targaryen, or we’d have suffered though each other’s weddings.” She peeked up at him. “Would you tell me? About the wedding you imagined?”

Jon leaned in, tracing the shell of her ear. “What if I tell you about all the weddings nights I’ve dreamed of instead?”

Sansa shivered. “I’d rather you show me first.”

Jon grinned, and kissed her again. He granted her wish that night, and the next morning too, and every night thereafter.


End file.
